A Big Splash
by Qweb
Summary: When Detective Danny Williams spots suspicious activity at a marina, Steve McGarrett investigates and learns the hard way about a bomb plot that will make "A Big Splash."
1. Chapter 1

A Big Splash

Sitting on a bench outside a small snack shop, Detective Danny Williams gazed out at the sparkling waters and bobbing pleasure boats of the Kahala Marina. It was an off-hour, too late for lunch, too early for dinner. There were few people around. It was quiet, except for the seabirds squabbling over scraps stolen from a nearby trashcan.

"Nice view," Commander Steve McGarrett commented as he handed his partner a soda and sat beside him.

"Hmm? Oh, I suppose it's nice enough. Too watery for my taste."

Steve had only known Danny a couple of months. He hadn't grasped that his partner didn't look at scenery, he watched people.

"If you're not looking at the boats, what are you looking at?"

"Those guys on the dock. Don't they look ... out of place?"

All the men had dark hair, light brown skin and prominent noses. Two were average height and weight and looked like run-of-the-mill businessmen. The third was huge, taller than McGarrett and powerful. His suit coat strained across his wide shoulders. The cops automatically ID'd him as "muscle."

In another town, Danny might have called the trio "foreigners, "but half the population of polyglot Hawaii could qualify for that designation. (And, truthfully, half of his home state of New Jersey, he had to admit.) Still, the men seemed to lack the relaxed Hawaiian spirit, somehow.

Steve's laser gaze locked on the strangers and saw what his partner meant. "Dark suits, ties, businesslike attitude ... They look like you, but less scruffy."

"Like foreigners," Danny said, applying the word to himself, as well. He still felt out of place in Hawaii.

The men weren't really doing anything, just preparing a powerboat for departure, but the hairs on the back of McGarrett's neck were standing up. The former military intelligence officer had instincts, too. He pulled out his smart phone and took a couple of pictures.

"Maybe I'll just wander over there and take a look," he decided.

"Why you?" Danny asked, jumping to his feet.

"Because you look like a foreigner," Steve answered with unassailable logic.

"I look like a cop."

"That, too."

Danny took the only swallow of his soda he was going to get and followed his partner to the parking lot.

The two made an odd looking pair. At 5-5, Danny's head just topped the shoulder of his 6-1 partner. The funny thing was, neither man seemed to notice the disparity.

Planning a simple reconnaissance, Steve decided to try to blend in. Just another guy going to work on his boat. He put his gear in Danny's silver Camaro and shucked his dark T-shirt. The former SEAL had a six-pack Budweiser would envy. The detective studied him, but not with envy.

"No, put the shirt back on," Danny advised. "The tattoos spoil that whole innocent cabana boy vibe you're going for."

Steve glanced at the colorful designs that covered his shoulders, and decided Danny was right. Barefoot, with his pant legs and the sleeves of his T-shirt rolled up, he sauntered out on the dock carrying a bucket with a sponge in it. Danny lurked at the end of the dock near the parking lot, keeping out of sight.

Steve glanced at the suspects casually, nodding when he met the eyes of one, then turned his gaze to a boat at the far end of the dock, as if it was his boat. His ears, however, were tuned toward the strangers. Of course, if they were foreigners, they might speak a language he couldn't understand, but, no, he heard English in an accent no more foreign than the great state of Texas. The other two voices, however, were more Middle Eastern, a not-always-justified red flag to any military officer since 9/11.

He couldn't understand much; the gulls were just too noisy, but he had to fight from reacting at the few words he caught. He wondered later if maybe he had shown some reaction, because as he passed the suspects, the lights went out.

Danny gaped in shock at the violence that exploded on the peaceful scene. With no warning or hint of hesitation, the biggest of the trio hit Steve over the head with a club that had apparently dropped from his sleeve. He gave a simple push to send Danny's unconscious partner headfirst into the harbor, then he followed the other two into the boat.

"No, no, no, no, no," Danny said in time with his pounding feet, as he ran onto the dock. A fragment of his mind was thankful he had worn his knee brace and hoped the saltwater wouldn't damage it, but most of his attention was on running.

The assailants calmly boarded the powerboat and cruised away, never looking back to acknowledge the drowning victim or notice his would-be rescuer.

Danny pulled his phone out of his pocket and speed-dialed headquarters. "This is Williams, Five-O. Officer down. Kahala Marina, dock 47." He dropped the phone and his holstered gun in his pocket and dropped the jacket on the dock. At the last minute, he remembered to pull his wallet and keys out of his pants pocket and dropped them on top of the pile. Then he kicked off his shoes and dove into the stream of bubbles that marked his partner's passage.

Swimming strongly, he stroked down and caught Steve's limp form by the back of his shirt. Getting a more secure grip with one arm around Steve's chest, Danny pulled for the glittering surface above. He broke free with a gasp that seemed to awaken Steve from his swoon.

The commander began to struggle feebly.

"Steve, hold still or you'll drown us both," Danny ordered, sputtering as Steve's arm washed water into his mouth.

"Danny?" Steve asked groggily.

"Yes, it's me. Relax and let me tow you to the platform. See, I told you I could swim," he added.

"For survival," Steve remembered.

"Not for fun," Danny agreed. He cursed silently that the platform was three-quarters of the way along the dock. It seemed a terrible distance swimming in long pants and hauling a dead weight.

"What happened?" Steve asked.

"Just your inimitable talent for making friends and influencing people," Danny answered.

That was too much for Steve's aching head. "Huh?"

"A total stranger whacked you on the head and dumped you in the ocean," Danny said bluntly.

"Why?"

"Just you being you, I guess."

Steve's head lolled back on Danny's shoulder as the commander concentrated on staying conscious. His head pounded so hard it would have been a relief to pass out, but he had to hold on until they got out of the water.

They finally reached the ladder. "Can you climb?" Danny panted.

"Try." Steve weakly clutched the crossbars, alarmed at his lack of strength. It was only three rungs, but it seemed like Diamond Head. Danny boosted him up until his head and shoulders were above the platform.

"Now hold on," Danny begged.

He clambered awkwardly over his friend and grabbed him under his arms to pull his torso onto the dock. Danny dropped to the ground, spent, unable to pull Steve all the way up. But his friend was safe enough and he could hear sirens coming.

Danny flopped back on the dock, trying to catch his breath as a patrol car and an EMS ambulance pulled into the parking lot together. Just behind them was a sporty red Chevy.

Chin Ho Kelly and Kono Kalakaua piled out. They had been en route to meet the other Five-O members when they heard the police call. The two cousins were mixed Hawaiian blood, as their names made obvious, but they favored the Korean part of the family with high cheekbones and pointed chins. They were long, lean and athletic, and Kono, in her shorts and halter-top, had legs that wouldn't quit, a fact that Danny appreciated when she ran over to him. (He was a detective. He noticed these things.)

As everyone came galloping up, Danny pointed at Steve and waved away help for himself. He just needed to catch his breath. Swimming fully clothed is harder than it looks. He sent Kono to fetch his things. Can't leave a gun lying around.

The girl ran his errand willingly. She was the rookie of the team, fresh out of the police academy, and gofer was part of the job description.

Danny tried to sit up, rolling futilely twice until Chin gave him a hand. Normally slicked back, Danny's sandy hair hung in spikes over his face, dripping in his eyes. He brushed it back so it could drip down his neck instead. His sodden shirt clung uncomfortably and his wet pants were heavy weights around his legs. His tie was a crinkled, shriveling ruin.

"You're a mess, bro," Chin said kindly.

"I appreciate the analysis, Mr. Blackwell," Danny answered.

"What happened?" Kono asked, setting down Danny's clothes and gear.

"Damned if I know," the detective admitted. He told them about their suspicions and Steve's ill-fated recon. "You know how Steve fights. He's got reflexes like a cat. He's a freakin' Navy SEAL! And he didn't have a chance. He walked past and this guy slammed him in the head, no warning, no hesitation. Bam! Push! Steve's in the water and they're in the boat driving away as casually as a picnic cruise."

"Professional," Chin commented.

"Cold. Even sharks hesitate before they strike. Not this guy." Danny shivered at the memory.

"What kind of boat did they get away in?" Chin asked practically.

Danny deflated. "I don't know boats," he admitted, hating to confess such a gap in his detective skills. The two Hawaiians looked at him. Maybe Danny imagined the reproach. He gestured, empty hands out. "What! I never had to identify a getaway boat before!"

"Okay, okay." Chin gestured for him to calm down. "Can you describe the boat?"

Danny's look was definitely reproachful. "Of course I can describe it, but I can't identify it."

"How big was it?"

Danny shut his eyes, picturing the boat against the dock and estimating its length. "About 25 feet," he said with assurance. "White with a turquoise stripe wider at the front ..."

"Bow," Chin corrected.

"... narrowing to a point at the back."

"Aft."

"Thank you, admiral."

Chin grinned. "Cabin or open cockpit?"

"Open cockpit, with seats in the nose, too, in front of the windshield."

"That's called a bow-rider," Kono said helpfully.

Danny gestured at a nearby vessel. "None of those tower things on top. One seat for the driver, bench seats along the side in back, all turquoise. Couldn't really see into the front, excuse me, bow seats."

But he had a vivid memory of the boat driving away with one man's arm casually draped on the side.

Chin made notes. "What about the engines, outboard or inboard?"

"Inboard, two propellers."

Danny scrubbed his hand through his hair. Drops of water spattered Chin's notes and made Kono duck. Danny looked at the paramedic who was listening to Steve's chest with a stethoscope.

"Too bad sailor boy isn't with us. He could probably give us the name, rank and serial number of that boat."

Steve could hear the conversation, but wasn't really following it. His head ached so badly and there was something important he needed to remember, but the word "boat" penetrated the fog. He spoke.

"What was that?" Danny demanded.

"He said 'Harbormaster,'" the paramedic answered helpfully.

Danny rubbed his head again. "Is that someone we need to talk to?"

"No, bro, it's a brand of boat." Chin reached for his phone but Kono already had hers out.

"I've got it." Flying fingers called up the Harbormaster website on her smart phone. She sorted through the parameters of size, engines etc., then showed Danny the selections left. Squinting at the small pictures, he pointed without hesitation. "That one. It's even got the same paint job."

The pictures reminded him of something else and he smacked his forehead with the heels of both hands. "Stupid! Steve took pictures. His phone. My car." He pointed. Kono ran.

While Chin called in the APB, Danny took Steve's phone from Kono and poked the screen with his finger, calling up the pictures then sending them to headquarters.

Kono was puzzled. "Doesn't Steve have security on his phone?" She couldn't believe Steve was so careless, so Danny must be doing something she wanted to understand. The detective was harassed and weary, but rookies gotta learn.

"Of course, he has security or anyone could pick this up and play with it."

"Then how did you get in?"

"De-tec-tive," he said, tipping the phone toward himself with each distinct syllable. "Observation makes a good detective. Observe and remember, young padawan."

"Yes, master," Kono said with a grin.

"That will let you describe a boat, even if you don't know boats," Chin pointed out.

Danny threw his hands out. "Exactly!"

"So, do you know my sign-in?" Kono asked.

"Yes, surfer girl, I do," he answered, leading Kono to wonder if WAVE was too obvious. "But I don't know his," Danny continued, pointing at Chin. "Because he is more wily than all of us."

"Suspicious of nosy haole detectives who covet my unlimited texting," Chin retorted.

Danny heaved himself to his feet and went to check on his partner.

"His vitals look good," reported the paramedic, whose name badge read "Riley." "But there can be delayed effected from both head injuries and near drownings. We should get him to a hospital."

Danny and Riley started as Steve sat bolt upright so swiftly he had to clutch his temples as if his head would fly off.

"Hospital! I remember. Bomb. Hospital. That'll make a big splash. They said 'Bomb. Hospital. That'll make a big splash'," he repeated.

"Boss, are you sure?" Kono said urgently.

"It was noisy — the birds and the water. I couldn't hear it all, but I'm sure of what I did hear. Bomb. Hospital. That'll make a big splash." The paramedic tried to restrain Steve who struggled to get up. "We've got to warn the governor."

"Steve!" Danny's command was so sharp, Steve winced and collapsed back on the stretcher board. "Steve, do you trust me?" Danny demanded in a more temperate tone.

At another time, Steve might have made a sarcastic quip, but out of his pain and confusion he simply said, "Yes, I trust you, Danno."

"Then trust me to do my job. I'll call the governor. I'll get things moving." Steve nodded, eyes squeezed shut in renewed pain. "You lie still and rest up. We need you back to full strength," Danny ordered. Steve relaxed with a visible effort. Danny patted his shoulder. "Good boy. Sit. Stay."

The detective walked out of his partner's earshot and turned to Steve's phone again. He thumbed through the contacts and pressed the button for Governor Jameson.

"Hello, commander." The governor's voice came over the phone.

"Governor, this is Detective Williams. We have a situation." He explained concisely. "We need to put a warning out on the island, all the islands, I guess, since they left in a boat." Danny nodded in response to a complaint. "Yes, ma'am, I realize we don't have a timetable. They could have been talking about today, next week, or the anniversary of 9/11. We can't know. But the ruthless way they attacked a potential witness tells me this is a credible threat — and it's going to happen soon. They said it would make a big splash, so concentrate on any hospital that's having a special event or important visitors."

"VIP patients," Kono contributed.

Danny gave her a thumbs up and relayed the addition. He listened for a moment; then relaxed.

"Of course I'll take care of him. He's my partner. We'll be back as soon as we can."

He turned off the phone and spoke to the attentive Chen and Kono.

"She's going to get the ball rolling. We've got to get back to HQ and see if we can identify the target. Hey!" His shout made Kono start, but he was looking past her to where attendants were loading Steve into the back of the ambulance. "No hospital!"

He grumbled to himself so only his team heard. "All the trouble I went to in order to drag him out of the ocean, I'm not going to send him to get blown up! No hospital!" he said more forcefully, stalking over to the ambulance guys.

They tried to argue, but there were few who could outargue Danny Williams.

"No, no, no. This man is a witness in protective custody. I'm putting him in a safe house."

The driver surrendered. "Where do you want us to take him?"

That stumped Danny. Five-O was still new. It didn't have a safe house.

"His place," Chin suggested. "The bad guys don't know who he is."

"Good. Good idea." Danny got Steve's wallet and showed the paramedics the address on the driver's license.

"Someone should watch him, someone with medical training," Riley advised as he packed up his gear.

"I know someone," Kono volunteered, snatching out her phone again. "Hi, this is Kono Kalakaua. Yes, it's good to hear your voice, too, but I have an emergency, Dr. Tanaka." She explained quickly. "Can you come? Great! It'll be good to see you again." She hung up. "Okay, she'll meet us there in about 15 minutes."

"Okay." Danny told the ambulance guys, "She'll go with you to let you in and there's something else I'd like you boys to do for me." He walked off with them, fishing for his wallet in the pocket of the suit coat he carried on his arm. His wet pants clung to his legs. He'd lost one sock in the plunge. The other squelched as he limped, leaving damp footprints behind.

Kono watched with admiration.

"I didn't know he could do that. I knew Steve could, but not Danny."

"What's that, little cuz?" Chin asked.

"Take charge. Dominate. I mean, look at him. He's short, a little scruffy, maybe kind of funny looking — great shoulders, though," she added thoughtfully. "His clothes are wet and crumpled and he looks like a homeless person who got caught in the rain, but he's in control and nobody's questioned it, not Steve or even the governor."

"The governor couldn't see him," Chin pointed out. "But I get your point."

"What is it?"

"Confidence," Chin decided. "He's good, as good a detective as I've ever met. And he's in his element right now. This is the kind of situation he's trained for. He's still a stranger to Hawaii, but once he gets familiar with the place — and he will ..."

"... because we'll help him..."

"... he'll be hard to beat," Chin finished.

"Are you two coming?" Danny called from the parking lot. They hastened after him, and shared a grin over their unhesitating obedience.

Danny told Kono. "Let the guys in. They know what to do. Tell your doctor what's going on. We'll swing by my place to get some dry clothes, then pick you up."

"Right, boss."

Danny grinned because that's what she called Steve.

Kono took off in her little red compact.

"You'd better drive. I'm a mess," Danny said, handing over the Camaro's keys. Chin had taken a beach towel out of Kono's Cruze. He spread it out on the passenger seat, then gestured Danny in. "Good thing Kono was here. She's used to wet passengers," Chin said.

Danny dropped in heavily, all his animation rushing away. He scrubbed his face tiredly. "I'm already bushed and it looks like it's going to be a long night," he sighed.

"Power nap, bro," Chin advised. "Trust me to be your chauffeur."

It was good advice. Danny was asleep before Chin slid behind the wheel.

Steve woke up to early morning sunlight coming through his own bedroom window. There was a stranger in his room.

A grandmotherly Japanese woman with iron gray hair and a matronly figure sat beside the window reading a paperback. Steve faintly remembered a voice in the darkness, a soft hand on his cheek and an annoying light flashing in his eyes.

"Dr. Tanaka?" he ventured.

"Ah, right on schedule," the woman said, setting her book aside. "How's your head?"

"It aches, but I've had worse." He touched the sore spot and felt a small shaved patch with a crusty strip.

"There was a small laceration. I superglued it together. You shouldn't even need a bandage," the doctor said.

"Thank you. You were here all night?"

"Kono asked me to keep an eye on you," Tanaka said.

"Are you one of her many cousins?" Steve asked.

The doctor laughed. "No, but I was her next door neighbor when she was a girl, so she thought of me when she needed medical help in a hurry." She looked into Steve's eyes and listened to his lungs. "Head injuries can be tricky, but you look fine."

The doctor's manner was maddeningly familiar. "I know you, don't I?" Steve asked.

She smiled. "I treated you once when you were a boy, when your doctor was out of town."

"When I fell out of the tree," Steve remembered.

"You were so disappointed you weren't going to need a cast on your arm."

"But the sling you gave me made me ultracool at school for a week." Steve grinned.

He sat up, realizing he was naked under the sheets. He felt sticky from the residue of saltwater on his skin.

"Can I shower?" he asked, toughing his wounded head.

"Just don't scrub at it and it should be fine," the doctor answered. She put her stethoscope in her bag. "I'm told breakfast will be ready when you are," she added as she left the room.

"Breakfast?" Steve wondered. He realized he could hear faint voices from his kitchen.

He showered quickly and dressed, carefully patting his head dry, then came downstairs from his bedroom to find intruders in his home.

He heard Danny's voice as he came into the kitchen. "What do you think, doc? Can it be saved?"

"It's not really my field, but I'd take it to one of the techs at the hospital and let him check it out," Tanaka said.

"I rinsed off the saltwater and oiled the metal bits like the instructions said, but I didn't have time to gently dry it with the hair dryer that I don't own, anyway."

Steve came into his kitchen to find a comfy domestic scene with his team and the doctor sitting around his table eating his food. The subject under study was Danny's knee brace. Steve hoped it hadn't been ruined on his account.

The smell was heavenly. Coffee, bacon and ...

"Pancakes?"

Standing at the counter, Danny skewed around, "Hey!" he greeted his boss. "You look better. I hope you really do like pancakes. You said you did."

"I do." Steve obeyed the doctor's pointing finger and sat beside Kono, who waved at Steve because she had her mouth full. "I just didn't expect to find you playing short order cook in my kitchen."

"Doctor Tanaka told us when she expected you to come around," Chin said.

"So we came around to see," Danny said.

"And we were hungry," the young, athletic rookie added, swallowing hastily.

"So we scavenged in your kitchen," Danny said without shame.

"Mi casa es su casa," Steve answered wryly.

"Don't confuse me with Spanish when I'm trying to get the hang of Hawaiian," Danny grumbled. He transferred two disks onto a plate and set it before Steve. The commander raised his eyebrows.

"Blueberry pancakes, even."

"You had blueberries in your fridge, so I figured you'd like healthy pancakes. If you'd rather have plain, I can make more," he gestured with the plate of blueberry pancakes.

"No, these are fine. Better than the ones I make. They always come out purple."

"Ah," Danny said wisely. "I'll bet you put your berries in the batter. You need to sprinkle them with a little of the flour, then put the berries in the pancakes after you pour them on the griddle."

Everyone stared at him as he started to eat.

"So, I watch Food Network. Is that okay with everyone?"

"Fine with me," Kono said, snatching a spare pancake off the platter.

"Food Network, Animal Planet," Steve teased.

"Yes, I spent many hours alone watching cable TV until you came along to make my life so exciting," Danny retorted. "Discovery Channel, History Channel, anything but cop shows. They're so unrealistic," he snorted.

They all ate in silence for a while, well supplied with pancakes, coffee, juice and bacon.

"Only two pancakes?" Steve asked plaintively, as he wiped his plate clean.

The others all looked at the doctor. She tilted her head thoughtfully. "One more," she decided. "Don't overstuff yourself and don't overdo, or you'll end up flat on your back again."

Back at the griddle, Danny rolled his eyes at the idea that Steve wouldn't overdo, but Dr. Tanaka didn't see. She patted her patient on the shoulder and kissed Kono on the cheek.

"Call me anytime, my dear," she said fondly as she went to wash her hands. "You have interesting friends."

Danny scraped out the bottom of the bowl to get two more pancakes.

With the doctor out of the room and Danny's back to him, Steve risked asking the burning question of the morning. "Hey, thanks for the rescue, but please tell me you're not the one who undressed me and put me to bed."

Danny grinned over his shoulder. "I couldn't put you to bed soaking wet, could I?"

He paused for a long moment.

"Awwwwk-waaaard," Kono giggled into her juice.

"So I paid the EMTs twenty bucks apiece to put you to bed, because, frankly, neither of us wants to go there," Danny continued.

"I'll split it with you," Steve said.

"Well, you already have," Danny admitted sheepishly, as he delivered the final pancakes, one to Steve and one to himself. "I only had twenty-seven on me, but I had your wallet. I appreciate the offer, though. You are an expensive rescue. The knee brace is going to need professional help, the dry cleaner shook his head at the sight of my suit and my tie is beyond hope."

Steve winced. "Not the one Grace gave you?" As much as he teased Danny about his ties, he knew where to draw the line.

"No, thank heavens. Fortunately I was not wearing one I was emotionally attached to."

"No worries, brother, you have too many ties as it is," Chin said.

"In your opinion," Danny retorted.

The commander made a show of checking his wallet while he covertly studied his team. There were dark circles under their eyes and lethargy in their movements. He recognized the signs of a night of catnaps and too much coffee.

"Am I the only one who got any sleep last night?"

"Pretty much," Chin agreed.

"Anything happen?"

"Not a thing," Danny answered, stifling a yawn. "Well, no move from the bad guys. We hard-working police officers checked information, searched hospitals and exhausted six bomb-sniffing dogs. To no avail."

"I know what I heard," Steve insisted.

"I'm not arguing with that," Danny argued. "But I wish you'd heard a date to go with 'Bomb. Hospital. Make a big splash.'"

"Shhh," Kono warned, as Tanaka returned.

"I'll be going now," the doctor said. "I'm planning a party tonight for friends coming in on the hospital ship and there's still a lot to do."

"What did you say?" Danny yelped.

"Hospital ship?" Steve demanded.

Tanaka blinked. "Yes, the Navy hospital ship Solace is coming into Pearl today. She's due at 2."

The Five-O teammates felt as if the air had been sucked out of their lungs. They managed somehow to politely usher the doctor to her car with copious thanks, before collapsing back at the table. They tried to wrap their minds around the enormity.

"Blow up a Navy ship ..." Steve began.

"... a hospital ship! ..." Kono emphasized.

"... in Pearl Harbor!," added Danny, to whom Pearl Harbor had always represented a disaster rather than a place.

"That would make a big splash," Chin finished soberly.

To be continued …


	2. Chapter 2

A Big Splash

Part 2

**Disclaimer: In a place called "fanfiction"dot net, do I really need to say the characters aren't mine? The Five-0 officers belong to other people. Aku and Dr. Tanaka are mine, but CBS can borrow them if they really want to. **

**I'm changing the rating on this to T. Definitely more violence in part 2, but nothing out of line with the series.**

_Detective Danny Williams of the state police task force called Hawaii Five-0 noticed some suspicious characters at a marina. When his boss, Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett (Navy Reserve) went to investigate, he was hit on the head and thrown in the water. As the bad guys escaped, Danny dove in the water to rescue his friend (and incidentally prove to Steve that he __can__ swim). Though groggy and half-drowned, Steve remembered something the suspects said: "Bomb. Hospital. That'll make a big splash." The next morning, Steve awoke in his own house watched by a doctor friend of Kono Kalakaua, Five-0 rookie police officer. In his kitchen, he found his teammates fixing breakfast …_

"Am I the only one who got any sleep last night?" Steve McGarrett asked.

"Pretty much," Chin Ho Kelly agreed.

"Anything happen?"

"Not a thing," answered Danny Williams, stifling a yawn. "Well, no move from the bad guys. We hard-working police officers checked information, searched hospitals and exhausted six bomb-sniffing dogs. To no avail."

"I know what I heard," Steve insisted.

"I'm not arguing with that," Danny argued. "But I wish you'd heard a date to go with 'Bomb. Hospital. Make a big splash.'"

"Shhh," Kono Kalakaua warned, as Dr. Tanaka returned. She didn't know anything about the threat.

"I'll be going now," the doctor said. "I'm planning a party tonight for friends coming in on the hospital ship and there's still a lot to do."

"What did you say?" Danny yelped.

"Hospital ship?" Steve demanded.

Tanaka blinked. "Yes, the Navy hospital ship Solace is coming into Pearl today. She's due at 2."

The Five-0 teammates felt as if the air had been sucked out of their lungs. They managed somehow to politely usher the doctor to her car with copious thanks, before collapsing back at the table. They tried to wrap their minds around the enormity.

"Blow up a Navy ship ..." Steve began.

"... a hospital ship! ..." Kono emphasized.

"... in Pearl Harbor!" added Danny, to whom Pearl Harbor had always represented a disaster rather than a place.

"That would make a big splash," Chin finished soberly.

Continued …

"OK." Steve took a deep breath. "At least we've got some time. You three get some rest, because we're going to need to be sharp later. I'll call the governor and the admiral and see if we can get confirmation."

"Bright spot. Maybe this time you can get Catherine's help all legal-like," Danny said with a mild leer.

"Every cloud..." Steve agreed.

At high noon, the team met Steve at the Pearl Harbor Naval Base for a briefing. They were cleaned up and rested, but looked out of place amid the uniformed police and Navy officers swarming around. Neither fish nor seafowl, the Five-0 team was shunted into a tiny meeting room to wait.

Too focused, too intent, Steve tapped his finger on the table impatiently and gazed stone-faced at the bare gray wall.

Chin gestured at Danny to break the silence. Why me? Danny asked silently, pointing at himself. Chin gave Danny a look and moved his fingers in a "talk talk talk" gesture.

Danny cast about for something to say. Sports? Sports was always good.

"So, Steve, how are the Kings doing?" he said loudly, referring to Steve's (and Chin's and Kono's) high school football team. "They were what, two and oh?"

"Three and one," Steve said absently. "You're not following them? But I forgot, you don't like football."

"I never said that," Danny protested. "I like to watch it."

"But you never played it."

Suddenly Steve came fully out of his preoccupation and realized the others were openly laughing at him. "What?"

Danny shook his head as his voice shook with mirth. He held his hands up to his brow and flashed his fingers to represent the lights of a movie marquee. "'No formal police training.' Sometimes you can just see it written across his forehead in neon lights."

"You've gotta take it as a compliment, Danny. That's how tough he thinks you are," Chin said.

Steve still looked bewildered.

"Boss," Kono said kindly. "How would you describe Danny, if he was a suspect?"

"Five-five, hundred and …" Steve's voice trailed off as he realized those weren't the stats of a football player. Even kickers were bigger than that.

"And I'll bet you were smaller in high school," Chin said.

"You'd be right. I was 4-11 when I started high school, just two inches taller two years later. I spent my junior year praying, begging God to let me get tall enough to join the police force. Fortunately I shot up — if you can call this up — in my senior year."

He pointed at Kono. "You will never hear me complain about women cops," he told her. "Without affirmative action, I might never have made the force."

"I know what you mean," six-foot-one McGarrett said.

Danny scoffed.

"No, really. When I was in high school I wanted to be a Navy fighter pilot — a Top Gun. But they have a height limit because those cockpits are small! And I just kept growing. I outgrew my dream."

"So you learned helicopters instead," Chin said.

"Well, a Seahawk isn't as sexy as a Hornet, but machine guns and Hellfire missiles are some consolation," Steve answered with a glint in his eye. "Danny, I thought from what you said that you did play basketball?"

"Sure, on the streets, at the Police Athletic League, not in high school. I played baseball on the school team. They didn't care how tall I was, as long as I could turn a double play and hit up the middle. That's how I first hurt my knee. The runner took me out with a slide when I was covering second base. I made the play, though."

He chuckled, remembering something. "And there was Coach Michaels. He saw me in the hall and followed me to homeroom to recruit me …"

An ensign interrupted Danny's story by inviting them to the auditorium where a crowd was gathering.

Resplendent in his full dress uniform, Steve was buttonholed by an NCIS bigwig as soon as they stepped in the door. More anonymous, Danny and the others edged past into the rapidly filling auditorium.

Lt. Catherine Rollins suddenly had the feeling she was being stalked. Almost lost among the taller naval folk, a short, sandy-haired man eeled his way toward her. She held her ground.

"Catherine," Danny drew out her name as if tasting its sweetness.

"Danny Williams," she guessed, holding out her hand in greeting. "I'm so pleased to finally meet you. How did you spot me?"

"I followed Steve's eyes to the first target he acquired." Danny hadn't released Catherine's hand. She let him keep it, because his eyes were sparking mischief. "Is he watching?" Danny asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, Catherine could see Steve's worried gaze. "Oh, yes."

"Does he look nervous?"

"Petrified."

"I think it's good for him to realize that sometimes things are out of his control, don't you?"

"A whack on the head yesterday wasn't enough?"

"Probably not," Danny sighed. "We really ought to get together and share notes."

"I'd like that," she said truthfully. The door opened for the admiral and the governor. "But not now," she added regretfully.

Danny released her hand with a wink and slipped across the room to his seat next to Steve.

"What were you doing?" Steve hissed.

"And you call yourself a detective," was all Danny would answer.

The NCIS chief called the meeting to order, quickly summarizing the situation. "Intelligence has picked up an increase in cell phone and Internet chatter originating in the Pearl Harbor area that seems to confirm a credible threat against the hospital ship Solace." He quelled a murmur in the room. "The Solace has slowed her approach to Pearl and won't enter the harbor until we give the word. The official ETA has been revised to 16:00. That gives us more time, before the enemy gets suspicious." He gestured at Catherine.

"We focused in on three areas that seemed to be most active and began comparing surveillance photos with a cell phone picture Commander McGarrett took," the lieutenant said. "The cell photos aren't the best quality," she said apologetically, "But we got a 68 percent match and my instincts say it's a good one."

A picture flipped on the screen. Danny's fist thumped on the table. "Good instincts," he said, as he looked at his three "foreigners" from the marina.

"That's them?" Catherine asked.

"That's them."

"Confirmed," Steve agreed. "We've got them."

The admiral spoke, "Lieutenant Commander McGarrett and his Five-0 team will lead the raid on this warehouse, coordinating police and military forces." There was an unhappy stirring from the NCIS man. The admiral squelched him with a look. "This is a joint operation and the commander has experience on both sides of the fence. Anyway, he's the one who discovered this threat. If it wasn't for him, we wouldn't have known anything until the Solace was resting next to the Arizona."

The Navy guys weren't happy with that assessment, but Catherine spoke up. "It's true that the activity we traced was too low to activate a red flag. It was only when we had a threat to compare it to, that we could see the pattern."

The admiral nodded and gestured Steve forward.

He stepped up to the dais. "I should correct one thing. I didn't discover the threat. It was Detective Williams who first brought the suspicious activity to my attention and who kept me and my intel from ending up at the bottom of the marina."

It was always nice to be mentioned favorably in official reports. Danny tilted his head modestly and almost entirely hid the smile that wanted to flash across his face. He could practically hear little adding machine sound effects as the Navy officers reassessed the net worth of the scruffy little cop slouching at the table; then the smile was wiped away by concentration as Steve began to lay out the details of their battleplan.

The silver Camaro seemed too quiet to Kono on the drive to the assembly point. The rookie police officer had been on raids before, but nothing to compare with the scope of this. She rubbed her hands together compulsively.

Danny glanced in the rear view mirror. "SWAT, the Navy, NCIS — why do we get to be point? We shouldn't be so selfish," he complained.

"You can't tell me you don't want some payback," Chin said from the seat behind him.

"Payback? For what? For seeing my partner dumped in the harbor like a sack of garbage? I enjoyed that. It was like a fantasy come true," Danny said.

"Is that what you fantasize about?" Steve was amused. "You are a sick, twisted little man."

"Hey. Hey! Watch the insults," Danny protested. "I prefer 'vertically challenged'," he added with mock dignity. "Or 'height deprived.' Or the classic 'short,' if you must. But not 'little.' I've got enough problems being the haole without being the 'little haole.' It sounds like a children's book," he finished in disgust.

"But you don't have a problem with the 'sick and twisted' part?" Steve asked.

"Nah, I'm used to that. It's practically Rachel's pet name for me," Danny said, referring to his ex-wife.

At the rallying point, Steve and Danny went to coordinate with the other groups. Chin handed Kono a Kevlar vest from the trunk. "Still nervous, kid?"

She was surprised to realize she wasn't. "I forgot all about it."

Chin's mouth twitched in a suppressed grin. "Danny can be very distracting."

"Wait, you've not saying he started that rant because I was nervous?"

"I couldn't say, but he's a noticing sort of person."

"And what does that get us? …" Chin hadn't realized that Danny had come up behind him. "…Flak jackets and semi-automatics, that's what I get for noticing suspicious characters."

"But the people on the Solace thank you," Kono said.

"They'll never hear about it," Danny countered. He had a bulletproof vest on and two more in his arms. "Here. Take these instead. These are tactical vests. They have ceramic plates as well as Kevlar. They'll stop a knife as well as a bullet. We're might have close-in fighting in there."

"We should have some of these," Chin said.

"They're on order. These belong to SWAT," Danny said, as he adjusted his collar and settled the vest.

"You got cuffs?" Danny asked Kono. She showed her regulation handcuffs. Danny shook his head. He pulled a bunch of long strips of plastic out of a pocket. "Here, take some of these. I've got a whole package. We don't know how many bad guys are inside there. Do you know how to use the plasticuffs?"

"Sure, just pull the tab through the slot. They won't come off until you cut them off," Kono replied.

"How about first aid equipment?"

The officer patted a pocket of her cargo pants. "Danny, if you don't stop fussing over me, I'm going to start calling you Danno." Steve had picked up Danny's daughter's nickname for her father, but no one else used it. Steve mostly only used it to say, "Book 'em, Danno," which he thought was hysterical and Danny thought annoying.

At Kono's threat, the detective flinched back in an exaggerated motion and crossed his fingers before him as if warding off a vampire. "Forgive me," he said more seriously. "It's because I'm nervous, not because I don't trust you."

He pulled something out of his pocket. Chin saw he was looking at a wallet-sized school photo of his daughter. He rubbed it with his thumb, as if stroking Grace's hair. Danny's eyes were sad. Chin gripped his friend's shoulder.

"None of that, brah. We've got your back."

"Right." Danny tucked the photo in his pocket, under his Kevlar, over his heart. Kono could see the anxiety flow out of his eyes, to be replaced by resolve. She found it very Zen. The detective slung a semiautomatic rifle over his shoulder and raised his voice. "C'mon, Steve. If we're going to do this, let's do it!"

"Patience, partner. There are a lot of people involved here. SWAT's already taken out the perimeter sentries, so that's one job down." Steve rubbed his forehead. He'd never coordinated an operation this big and kept running through his mental checklist to make sure he didn't forget anything. He turned to the SWAT commander, whose name badge read Akutagawa. "You've got the infrared?"

The SWAT officer was short and stocky, or maybe he just looked stocky in all his gear. He set a laptop on the hood of a police car, the Five-0 and SWAT officers gathered around. The screen showed the warehouse interior in varied primary colors. People showed up as orange figures wandering in a mostly blue-green landscape broken up by red squares of warm spots under skylights. A bright white blurred the image of the far side of the building. Akutagawa pointed at it.

"They're doing some welding or something really hot near the exit. It's messing up the image. We can't tell how many people are over here," he warned. He brought up an overlay on the image that outlined an open area at the point of entrance, then a single path to another open area where five warm bodies lingered. After this "clearing," two crooked paths ran to the exit by the water. "A few people have been moving up and down these paths. The building plan shows nothing but a big open space with catwalks along the sides. The 'paths' and 'rooms' inside have been created with shipping containers and other equipment, which all look pretty much the same on the infrared." One path ran straighter, with right angle turns. "There's not a lot of detail, but this area seems to be a lot of shipping containers stacked in relatively neat rows." The other path was less regular. "There are containers over here, too, but also construction equipment and we can't tell what else."

"All right. My team is taking point on the ground," Steve said, ignoring Danny's ostentatious sigh. "I want SWAT to take the high road. I want snipers on the catwalks, if there are any, and paralleling us on top of the containers. But you are not to initiate any action without my OK. If you run into the enemy, you'll have to act, but stay covert as long as possible." He looked at all the assembled officers. "I can't emphasize enough that we have to stay quiet as long as possible. If they hear shooting, they'll launch the bomb boat. They're not going to be able to get to the Solace, but a bomb that size can do an awful lot of damage. We've got patrol officers clearing out the nearby buildings and the Navy is clearing the bay, but there are too many people and too many targets."

Everyone nodded.

"We don't want an Oklahoma City," Danny said.

"We'll need a SWAT team with us until we get to this point," Steve said, pointing at the clearing that now contained seven heat signatures. "Let me double check with the Navy and we'll get started."

"Thanks for the vests," Danny said, looking askance at the SWAT officer's name.

Akutagawa chuckled companionably. "It's a mouthful," he agreed. "My friends call me Aku."

"I suppose that means something." All Hawaiian names seemed to mean something.

"Bonito."

"Tuna? You're nicknamed tuna?"

Aku laughed. "The bonito is the fiercest hunter in the sea, pound for pound."

"If you say so," Danny said agreeably. "I don't know a lot about fish, except they taste good."

"Strong muscles and sharp teeth, that's a bonito," Aku said.

Danny regarded the short but powerful SWAT commander with his load of matte black weaponry.

"That suits you, all right," the Five-0 No. 2 said.

Aku turned serious. "No, offense, Williams, but we should be spearheading this offensive. Special Weapons and Tactics," Aku emphasized.

"I have no problem with that," Danny said honestly. "I have daughter that I would like to see this weekend. I don't want her standing by a coffin with a folded flag in her hands."

Aku nodded.

"I don't want you to think we don't trust SWAT," Danny said. "But Steve has his own way of doing things. He wants the team he handpicked and you can't reason with him. But I'll tell you one thing … he won't tell me what he did in the SEALs, says it's classified, but he's really good at stuff like this … kinda hands-on, but good."

"If that's the way he plays, we'll back you up," Aku promised.

"I've heard you SWAT guys give everyone a nickname," Kono said. She'd been listening and learning, as a conscientious rookie should, but thought it was time for a change of subject, before she got nervous again.

"Mm," Aku agreed. "I think we'll call Williams 'oneone'."

The New Jersey native looked at him suspiciously, wondering if this was more haole baiting.

"It means 'sandy,' Danny," Kono said.

Aku patted the top of his helmet.

The detective smoothed back his light brown hair. "Sandy, OK, I've been called worse." Aku started back to his unit. Danny called after him, "But you know it takes twice as long to say oh-nee-oh-nee as it does to say Da-nee."

Aku grinned and waved.

"Making more enemies, Danny," Steve said as he came up, adjusting the tactical vest that his partner had given him.

Danny raised his eyebrows. "I don't know why you keep me around, if you think I'm dumb enough to make an enemy of the SWAT commander just before we go into a firefight."

"Sometimes I wonder," Steve said ambiguously.

Danny settled the brace on his knee. It didn't seem any worse for its saltwater immersion. Steve noticed the action.

"Knee OK?" he asked. Once Danny stopped limping around with a cane, Steve tended to forget his partner's ACL was still healing.

"No pain. No problem," Danny replied. "The brace is just to keep it from twisting. I understand we might have to do some running and dodging in there."

"That's why you're a detective," Steve said. He gestured Chin and Kono closer. "Watch out for alarms, booby traps, tripwires," Steve warned. "Look all around, up and at the floor," he emphasized to rookie Kono, who nodded. "Here we go," Steve said into his mike.

He took point with Danny and Kono behind him and Chin as rear guard. SWAT officers followed in a separate group of four, while others took up positions around the perimeter and naval units lurked offshore.

Handguns out, the Five-0 team slipped inside through the partially open cargo door. It made Chin uneasy that the terrorists were so confident, they didn't even lock the door. Steve, Danny and Kono carried semiautomatics slung on their backs, while Chin preferred his trusty shotgun. They kept the larger weapons in reserve, relying on their handguns until heavier firepower was needed. Ten SWAT officers followed the foursome, all of them carrying semiautomatic rifles.

The warehouse was stacked with cargo containers in a neat but apparently random arrangement. It was quiet, but the rattle of the ventilation system covered any minor sounds the invaders might have made. From the far end of the warehouse, they could hear construction sounds, including the crackle-buzz of welding equipment.

Lighting was uneven with bright patches of sunlight contrasting with gloomy corners. The roof was filled with skylights, but most of them were covered, possibly to control the heat in the unairconditioned building. The ones that weren't covered made blinding patches of sunlight that sent the rest of the cavernous room deeper into shadow.

Aku gestured and two of the SWAT officers peeled off to climb ladders up to shadowed catwalks on either side of the warehouse.

Aku and his remaining men followed the Five-0 group into the wide passage between stacks of cargo containers. The containers weren't lined up neatly, leaving nooks and niches suitable for taking cover. The officers slunk from recess to recess, hugging the sides of the passage.

They slowly approached the clearing where they heard voices. Aku handed Steve a six-inch periscope that he used to peek around the last container. He saw seven men sitting on crates grouped around a cooler of beer. When Steve saw what they were doing, he had to fight to keep from laughing out loud.

"They're cleaning their weapons," Steve told the others in a low voice. "They're all disassembled."

"Good luck for us," Chin said.

"For a change," Danny said.

They shifted weapons, because the semis and shotgun would be more impressive, then waited for a rise in the construction sound. The officers charged into the clearing, surrounding the seven before they realized what was happening. One man snatched up his shotgun only to find the hinged barrel drooping toward his feet. Steve smirked at him.

"Set it down and raise your hands," he said forcefully, but not loudly.

Seeing the barrel of Steve's semi pointed between his eyes, the man did as he was told.

Another cursed, tossed away his useless rifle and opened his mouth to shout. Martial artist Kono spun on the ball of her foot and smashed him in the mouth with a roundhouse kick. Chin shoved the barrel of his shotgun into the gut of another who ignored the guns and tried to shout a warning to his comrades deeper in the building.

The others set down their useless weapons and raised their hands.

"No more heroes?" Danny asked with insufferable cheerfulness.

"We're just hired muscle," said one of the prisoners. "Those two are part of the group who hired us." He nodded at the two shouters.

Steve gagged the two with a couple of oily cleaning rags, while the officers used plasticuffs on all the prisoners. They fastened the ankles of six of the men together, two by two, as if they were competing in a three-legged race, to make it harder for anyone to run. Only the self-appointed spokesman was spared.

"How many more?" Steve asked.

"Two more of us, two big SOBs from Texas. Brothers," the spokesman said. "I can't say for sure how many others. They've been coming and going. Must be half a dozen at least working on their boat bomb."

"You should keep your mouth shut, Tony," one of the other men said, without any real heat.

"Why? I thought we were guarding gunrunners. But that boat bomb — they're terrorists, aren't they?"

"Yes," Steve said.

Tony spat on the floor in disgust. "I'm no terrorist. And I'm no psycho like those Texans. I'd tell you more if I could, but I don't know any more. I've been out on the perimeter mostly. Will you please take me far away from that bomb?"

Aku sent five of his men to escort the prisoners out, one for the spokesman, one for each of the linked pairs and two for the linked and gagged terrorist duo who glared at the officers and wrenched futilely at their plastic bonds.

With the prisoners disposed of, the rest of the officers continued toward the boat bomb. The four SWAT officers mounted to the top of the containers, two on either side of the path leaving the clearing.

It didn't stay a single path for long. Just past the clearing, they came to the fork in the road. To the left was an open area where machinery and a couple of junked trucks created an obstacle course. A crane rested its head on ground, creating a "low bridge." A skiploader stretched out its neck beyond.

Steve gestured Danny toward the clearer path to the right, that led off to more containers; then took a step toward the maze. Danny grabbed the edge of Steve's vest and shook his head emphatically. Hand parallel to the ground at his head height, he mimed shortness. He pointed to himself and Kono and the maze.

"We're the smallest. It makes more sense for us to go that way," Danny pointed out.

He was the shortest, Kono was the most slender; they were better suited for the obstacle course. But there was no high road that way for the SWAT officers to take. The pair that went that way would have no backup. Steve's instinct was to take the most dangerous path himself, but he had to trust his people. He hesitated. Danny crossed his arms and tapped his foot.

"All right, partner. You're right. Be careful," Steve said.

Chin fist-bumped his young cousin. "Take care of Danny," he told her.

Steve and Chin went right. Danny and Kono went left. The groups soon lost sight of each other.

Kono ducked under a crane boom (Danny didn't have to duck) and darted around a corner into a cross passage. Danny moved with her, facing the opposite direction and found himself face-to-face with a giant of a man. A full foot taller than Danny and probably a hundred pounds heavier, he snatched for his gun, but two guns were now pointing at him.

"Take it out with two fingers and be quiet about it," Danny said softly.

The man obeyed. He set it down and kicked it to Kono, who pocketed it quickly, then resumed her shooting stance.

"Now, down on the ground," Danny ordered.

"No. If you want me down, you'll have to take me down, little man," the giant said arrogantly in a Texas accent.

"You remember the man you threw in the marina? That was my partner. So what makes you think I won't just shoot you?" Danny asked in exasperation.

"Too noisy," the Texan said. "And that wasn't me at the marina. That was my brother. But I would have done the same."

"Two of you?" Danny said incredulously. "I've always heard things were bigger in Texas, but c'mon!"

"Your mama didn't feed you as well as ours did," the giant taunted. "Now, I'm gonna walk back and tell my boss the cops have come visitin', unless you wanna stop me."

Danny made an annoyed noise as he shoved his guns at Kono. She slung his rifle beside hers and put his pistol in a pocket, protesting as she did, "But, Danny, he's twice your size."

"The bigger they are …" Danny could see that Kono didn't appreciate his levity. "Look, kid, we've got to keep this as quiet as possible for as long as possible. And besides, I can't shoot an unarmed man."

The Texan smirked.

"Don't look so happy," Danny told the giant. "She'll have no trouble shooting a man who's about to kill her partner."

The man frowned angrily and lunged at the now unarmed detective. He figured if he stayed close to the cop, the girl couldn't shoot. Danny didn't retreat from the expected move. He dove low under the giant's grasp, locked his arms around the big man's knees, planted his shoulder in the man's pelvis and levered up and sideways. The Texan crashed shoulder down on the concrete. It was a classic wrestling takedown, except Danny finished it with a fist to the groin. The Texan swiveled his hip to blunt some of the force of the blow beneath the belt, but the impact stole the breath from the bellow he was about to make.

He staggered to his feet, clutching himself, then rushed at Danny again. The detective skipped sideways, retreating around the corner. The giant lunged after him, out of Kono's sight. She heard a dull clang. When she stepped back to get the cross passage in view, she saw her partner bending over the fallen giant, applying three sets of plasticuffs to his wrists and another three sets to his ankles, then using a seventh to fasten his wrists to the base of the crane. A bruise was forming all across the Texan's forehead.

Danny stood and patted the crane boom just above his head. "Guess I forgot to tell him about the low bridge," he said.

"Always look up," Kono recalled Steve's advice. "Where'd you learn those moves, Danny?

"The first was wrestling Coach Michaels," Danny said. "But the fist was fifth grade bully Mean Billy Green."

He gagged the prisoner with a bandage from his pocket. "That'll keep him from sounding the alarm."

"Then let's go," Kono said, handing the detective back his weapons.

"Two coming your way, McGarrett," said Aku's voice in his earpiece. The SWAT chief was two containers up, on the row between the two pairs of Five-0 officers.

Steve held up his hand in a sign to stop the platoon behind him. The only man behind him, Chin Ho, who had also heard the warning, shook his head at the unintentional theatrics, but stopped obediently just behind Steve's shoulder.

Steve took out Aku's periscope and peeked around the container's edge. He saw two men approaching slowly, chatting and puffing on cigarettes. One was a tall, slender, brown-skinned man wearing a cap and carrying a semiautomatic. The other was the towering Texan who had attacked Steve in the marina. Taller than Steve and wider across the shoulders, he wore jeans, a white T-shirt and an open, long-sleeved flannel shirt that draped loosely over the handgun on his hip. Steve's eyes narrowed at the sight of him.

He gestured Chin to drop back and explained what he'd seen. "The big guy's mine," he finished.

"Didn't expect anything else," Chin answered.

Chin gave Steve a leg up to the roof of the nearest single-stacked container, then wedged himself into a niche on the opposite side of the passage. Hunched over, Steve crept to the edge of the container, then, as his adversaries passed, he leaped on the big man's back like a cougar on a bear.

The Texan gave a roar that was choked off by Steve's forearm crushing his throat.

"Ah, 'hands-on.'" Danny heard Aku's soft comment over the radio and wondered what Steve was up to.

The brown-skinned man brought up his weapon to pick off the attacker. Chin slipped up behind him and swung the butt of his shotgun. The man dropped.

As Chin plasticuffed his prisoner, he watched the battle of the titans unfold.

The Texan slammed backwards into a container. Steve grunted, but held on, trying to strangle his opponent into submission. The Texan bent his legs and jumped up and backwards, trying to crash down on his attacker, but Steve sensed the move and threw himself free. He rolled to the side and sprang to his feet. The big man crashed on his back. It drove the breath from his body, but he still lurched to his feet and, without fully rising, tackled Steve like a linebacker. The commander rolled with the momentum, planted his feet in the Texan's gut and heaved. The man was too massive for Steve to hurl into the air, but the thrust broke the giant's hold. He rolled to the side and came to his feet. He approached more cautiously, arms spread as if to grapple, then a billyclub slid from his sleeve into his palm and he swung in one practiced move. But Steve was ready for the attack Danny had described.

"You won't sucker punch me twice," Steve muttered.

The Five-0 chief ducked under the swing, caught the wrist with one hand and the elbow with the other and broke the Texan's arm over his knee, as if it was a repugnant golf club. An elbow to the jaw cut off the giant's bellow of pain and dropped him to his knees.

Chin and Steve plasticuffed him, fastening the billyclub between his aching jaws as a gag.

Chin retrieved Steve's discarded weapons and returned them.

"Feel better now?" he asked.

Steve considered. "Yes, I do," he decided.

"Then shall we continue?" Chin asked, making an "after you" gesture.

Steve took the point and continued.

A young man paced among a group of stored junked autos. Dedicated to the cause, he was nervous about the delay in the hospital ship's arrival. He was sure it meant the plot was discovered, though no one listened to such a junior member. As he walked and worried, the terrorist heard the sound of soft footsteps, as of two people sneaking along. It couldn't be any of his people. They had no reason to creep. It certainly couldn't be his Texas comrades. They clomped along like longhorn cattle. He was unarmed, so he slipped away to get a weapon and some friends to ambush the intruders.

As the footsteps came closer, one of the men aimed at head height and fired when he saw motion. The bullet slammed into a box truck just above Danny's head. (Another advantage of being below average height.)

With the noise barrier broken, Danny didn't hesitate to fire a round into the suspect's chest. The man staggered back a step, then laughed and brought his weapon up again. "Vest," Danny thought. "Fine." His revolver tipped up at the man's face for a moment, then down. He fired twice, once for each knee.

The suspect bellowed and collapsed to his face. Danny was on him in a flash, kneeling on his back, zipping plasticuffs around the beefy wrists.

A knife-wielding terrorist rushed from behind a car aiming at Danny's back. Kono leaped over the detective driving both feet into the terrorist's face. She rolled to her feet and, in one smooth move, caught the man by his long hair and rammed him headfirst into a container wall.

Still kneeling on the suspect, Danny told Kono, "OK, two more down."

The dedicated young terrorist loomed out of the darkness raising a machine pistol.

"Danny, gun!" Kono called, but she was out of position to protect her partner.

Danny whirled. A shot echoed. The terrorist dropped with a hole in his forehead.

"Quicker than you can say 'oneone,'" Aku's voice said in their earpieces.

Only later would they appreciate the difficulty of Aku's long distance shot under a crane boom, over the hood of a car. At the moment, they just appreciated the timing.

"Three more down," Danny amended, waving thanks to the distant sniper.

"Danny? Kono?" They heard Steve's voice over the radio.

"We're OK, boss," Kono answered. "We were spotted, but the only casualties were on the other side." She quickly cuffed her unconscious prisoner.

A fusillade of shots sounded from Steve's position.

"We'd better move," she told Danny.

"You can't just leave me here. I'll bleed to death," the prisoner protested.

"Not my problem," Danny said cheerfully. He studied the slowly forming pool of blood. "There's no arterial spray. You might last an hour or two." The detective knelt beside the man. "Of course, the sooner we can wrap this up, the sooner we can get paramedics in here. So if you'd care to help us round up your friends ..."

"I've got rights," the man blustered.

"Not according to the Patriot Act," Danny countered. He bounced the suspect's forehead off the concrete, but just as a gentle reminder. It didn't even leave a red mark. "You're a terrorist. So I really don't care whether you cooperate or bleed to death. It's your call."

The man wasn't nearly as dedicated as the slain youth. He calculated his odds of surviving and coldly decided to change sides. The prisoner told them what he knew as Danny hauled him to a sitting position, then pulled a couple of field dressings out of a pocket and tied them around the wounded legs, just a quick knot, nothing fancy.

"You better hope that will hold you, because we've got to go," the detective said.

He and Kono could hear Aku giving instructions from on high. Trotting in a crouch along the top of the containers, he had a better view of the battlefield.

"Keep heading straight, Steve. You shouldn't run into any more fire. The suspects are falling back."

"They're regrouping near the exit. They're going to make a fight of it to delay us," advised one of the SWAT officers on the catwalk. "I make six at the barricades."

"Two have gone out the door. They're going to launch the boat," said the woman sniper on the other catwalk.

"Listen up, people." Danny's voice came over the earpieces as he and Kono jogged to catch up. "They've got a remote control for the boat, a blue plastic game controller, can't miss it. But my informant said they won't hesitate to drive the boat manually. They're fanatics, ready and willing to die for their cause. The good news is, there are no boobytraps. They were afraid they'd set off the big boom."

"Roger," Steve acknowledged. "And the bad news."

"The bomb is on a cell phone trigger and they all have it on speed dial."

There was a heavy silence on the frequency, then …"

"Kid gloves are off," Steve said tightly.

"Don't wait for orders to shoot," Aku told his people.

"The life you save may be your own," Danny added.

"That was very McGarrett, Danny," Kono said quietly — without activating her microphone — as they moved swiftly but carefully toward the gunfire. "The interrogation, I mean."

"He's a bad influence, and I'm corrupting America's youth." Danny wiped his mouth as if to remove a bad taste. He felt unclean, as if he'd taken his daughter to a strip club. "That was not police work, Kono. Police work is rights and regulations and following the rules even when it's inconvenient. That was Homeland Security, Patriot Act, quasi-military expediency. Don't get the two mixed up."

"Don't worry, Danny. I've got a whole family that will come down on me if I turn to the dark side."

"Good girl. Do as I say, not as I do."

"But when it comes to terrorists with humongous bombs, anything goes."

"Those are the rules we're playing by right now," Danny admitted distastefully. "But I don't like it. It's not civilized."

"Terrorists with bombs aren't civilized," she pointed out.

"Kid, New Jersey is right next door to New York. You don't have to convince me that terrorists are bad."

"Watch yourselves on the ground," Aku's warning came over the earpieces.

Steve poked the periscope past the last protective container. A bullet smashed it out of his hands. Aku and his officers began firing, but the terrorists were well entrenched behind a fort of crates.

"Kono, help me with this," the others heard Danny say, but they couldn't see what he was doing. A motor chugged, then caught with a rough, coughing roar.

"Where did you learn how to hotwire a crane?" Kono's voice asked.

"Misspent youth," Danny answered. "One battering ram coming up."

Like a brontosaurus with a bad cold, the sputtering crane rumbled forward on its tractor treads. The progress was jerky and jagged, but relentless. As it came into view, the other officers could see Danny in the pilot's seat with Kono crouched beside him, firing over the control panel.

The terrorists frantically fired at the approaching prehistoric menace, but bullets hardly scuffed the rust of the metal monstrosity and the cabin was set too high to allow a good shot at the driver.

"See if I remember how to do this," Danny muttered to himself.

He shifted levers and the boom swung at the barricades. There was no wrecking ball, but the heavy chain dangling down was more than enough to sweep the crates aside. Enough, too, to the skull of one terrorist who didn't retreat in time. The crane coughed and died. The boom froze. But the damage was done.

The police officers began firing at the now exposed terrorists.

"Police, drop your weapons!" Aku ordered in a bellow.

The terrorists fired back defiantly. "Had to try once," Aku muttered as he calmly picked off a terrorist wielding an automatic rifle. Two more fell. The last two were pressed back into the shelter of one packing crate.

"Steve, Chin, head for the dock, we've got you covered!" Danny yelled.

It was still risky, but the two Five-0 officers were in the best position to stop the boat launch.

They ran past the packing crate. The two terrorists reared up with their weapons. Steve fired on the run, hitting one man in the arm.

The second was hit simultaneously by shots from Danny and one of the SWAT officers.

The man Steve injured had dropped his gun, but he pulled something else from his pocket — a cell phone. He dropped with five shots in him before he could even turn it on.

Steve and Chin Ho charged blinking into the sunlight. Still in their business suits, the two terrorists from the marina had just finished lowering their bomb boat on davits down to the water six feet below.

The nearer terrorist knelt beside a blue plastic game controller.

Chin fired from his hip. The shotgun blast blew the controller to pieces and sent the ruins skidding across the dock. Peppered with pellets, the terrorist grabbed for something in his pocket. Gun or cell phone, Chin wasn't taking any chances. He fired his second barrel into the man's chest.

When he saw the Five-0 officers, the terrorist leader dropped into the back of the boat just ahead of a bullet from Aku. The concrete walls of the dock shielded the terrorist from view.

"No shot,"Aku snapped, as he bounded down from the container tops.

"No shot," echoed his two snipers.

Running out to the edge of the dock, Steve was the only one with a shot, but his pistol clicked on empty.

Triumph on his face, the terrorist raised his cell phone, then glanced down at it to push the "call" button. Shedding weapons, Steve launched himself across the boat in a dive that carried the terrorist into the water between the boat and the dock's far wall. The cell phone went flying.

The frustrated terrorist screamed and cursed in Arabic, flailing at Steve who struggled to subdue him. The fight carried them beneath the water. Steve's shoulder scraped the concrete wall as their heads broke the surface again.

"Steve!" three voices yelled as one.

Gathered on the edge of the dock, the Five-0 officers could see their commander's danger. Caught by a wave, the heavily laden boat was sweeping sideways toward the two combatants.

"Dive!" Chin Ho ordered.

Steve saw the boat looming closer and duck-dived, pulling strongly for the harbor floor. His bulletproof vest hindered him. He was glad he wasn't wearing one of the Navy's buoyancy vests, but he still had to battle against the air trapped beneath the cloth cover and the layers of Kevlar. He fought his way down, until the keel of the boat clipped his heels, then he swam under the boat and turned toward the surface.

Disoriented in the water, the terrorist didn't follow Chin's command. He tried to push the boat away, but momentum and inertia were against him. The explosive-packed boat squashed him against the concrete wall like a bug on a windshield.

Steve broke the surface to his friends' relief. He looked around for his opponent.

"Don't bother," Chin said. "He didn't dive."

Steve grimaced and swam toward the rear of the boat.

"Need me to fish you out again?" Danny called, leaning casually against a railing.

"I'm good." The SEAL swam easily to the ladder at the tail of the boat. He climbed aboard and carefully studied the bomb. He was relieved to see it was pretty simple. (Well, you don't want a motion-activated switch on a boat bomb.)

Kono held her breath as Steve bent to carefully detach the wires from the cell phone trigger. She breathed again when he pulled the phone free and held it up.

In the relief from the tension, Steve felt disgust at the potential for mass destruction represented by the simple cell phone. He started to toss the device overboard.

"Evidence!" Danny called.

With exaggerated caution, Steve set the cell phone on the rear seat, as far as possible from the pile of explosives in the bow.

"Another hundred years and we might train him to be a police officer," Danny told his teammates.

"I heard that," Steve said over the earpieces.

"Oh, am I still online. My bad," Danny said blandly. Grinning at Chin and Kono, he took the earpiece out and turned off the microphone.

Leaving SWAT to clear the building and the bomb squad to remove the explosives, the Five-0 team returned to the Camaro to doff their gear. Steve toweled off as best as he could.

"I hope you didn't lose the car keys when you dove in the water," Danny said as he turned his cell phone on. It rang before he could put it away again. The Five-0 team recognized his ex's ringtone, but when he answered it, they could tell by his body language that the caller was his daughter.

"Hi, monkey. What? You can? What channel?" He looked toward a distant cluster of TV news crews. "Yeah, I see them." He covered the phone. "Grace can see us on TV." To his daughter, he said, "Yes, Steve's pretty wet. He fell in the water again."

McGarrett made a face at him.

"No, I can't wave or the TV lady will think I'm waving at her," Danny continued to his daughter. "Can you see me patting my head? That's for you, Grace. I gotta go now. Sorry we interrupted your cartoons. Danno loves you."

As Danny hung up, Kono's phone rang. "Kono Kalakaua. Oh, hi! Yes, he's right here, but I guess you knew that." She glanced at the TV crews as she handed the phone to Steve. "It's for you, boss."

"Hello? Oh, hi," he didn't sound nearly as happy to hear from the caller as Kono had. "But I … But … No, I wouldn't call it 'taking it easy,' but …"

"Dr. Tanaka saw us on TV, too," Kono explained to Chin Ho and Danny.

The three grinned to hear their fearless leader reduced to a stammering schoolboy, trying to explain to the doctor why he hadn't followed her advice to "not overdo."

"But it was important," Steve pleaded.

"Busss-ted," Kono said with relish.

Chin Ho grinned and nudged the New Jersey detective, "Book him, Danno."

Danny rolled his eyes, but had to admit it was funny — once. "But don't make it a habit," he warned, as the trio walked away from their beleaguered boss.

**The End**


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